


Black & Gold

by SOMNlARl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Cock Piercing, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern Setting, Nipple Piercings, One Shot, PWP, piercing play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is fascinated by Dorian's piercings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black & Gold

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon prompt on tumblr: "I saw this prompt on the kmeme and no one has filled it yet so I thought I'd reword it a bit and see if you're up for it? I'd like it to be Cullrian although if you'd rather do Cillian or Iron Bull that'd be okay. So anyway I need some major body worship + Dorian having tons of piercings which fascinates his LI. And like he's really turned on by the slight pain of them whenever they're sucked or tugged? IDK. And uh, if there's oral with a frenum ladder I'd die happy. *hops in trash can*"
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger. let's be friends? i have a terrible habit of writing porn for friends so if you're into that... 
> 
> comments make my life. <3

No matter how many times he saw the man naked Cullen never managed to shake the overwhelming sense of awe that washed over him as Dorian stripped. It was always the same; a sudden rush of warmth stirring deep within him at the first teasing glimpse of Dorian’s bare chest, the quick flashes of gold that never failed to catch his interest.

Tonight was no exception and he doesn’t bother to stifle the gasp that slips unbidden through his lips as Dorian pulls his t-shirt over his shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise anymore, those quick flashes of gold ringed with black. Dorian was like a magpie; drawn to flashy, ostentatious things. Whether it was the way he lined his eyes - first with kohl and then with a ring of bright, golden pencil to catch the light - the layers of rings he wore on each finger that would shimmer softly in the late afternoon sunlight as he lifted his coffee to his lips, or the soft rings of gold beaded with delicate black orbs scattered through his skin, he was always black and gold. Cullen was confident in saying those were his lover’s absolute best colors.

“Like what you see?” Dorian purrs, shimmying his jeans off his hips and onto the floor.

“Oh, _Maker_ …” he whispers, breath catching in the back of his throat.

“No, no,” Dorian replies with a wicked grin as he toys slowly with the elastic of his boxers. “No Maker here, thank goodness. I hardly think he would approve of the things you and I get up to.”

“Bed,” Cullen growls. “Now.”

“So demanding! Not even a please! Whatever happened to your manners, Cullen?” Dorian takes a step towards him, leaning in to nip at his ear. Cullen takes advantage of their closeness to snake an arm around Dorian’s waist and steer him over towards the bed, giving him a soft push as they reach the edge of the mattress.

Dorian chuckles as he falls and _Maker_ but he loves the way Dorian laughs. It’s a rich, throaty sound almost akin to a purr and it suits him; He’s always thought that Dorian resembled a large cat. Languid, elegant and always, always dangerous.

He doesn’t realize he’s still standing at the edge of the bed, _staring_ , until Dorian’s silky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Amatus, far be it for me to discourage anyone from admiring the glory that is me but… tonight perhaps?” Each word is teasing but the edges are sharp, an unspoken warning lurking behind every syllable that drifts from Dorian’s tongue. Patience has never been one of Dorian’s virtues.

He blinks. Once and then again until clumsy fingers remember how to fumble at his clothing. Not too quickly despite Dorian’s obvious irritation. Not tonight. Tonight he has a plan.

“Yes,” he manages, clearing his throat. Jeans first, then the buttons of the plaid shirt Dorian is always threatening to burn. He takes another moment to look down at his lover who is lying on his side, head resting on a folded arm, top leg bent slightly and angled down, knee brushing against the sheets.

Cullen lies beside him, inching towards him until they’re forehead to forehead and he brushes a kiss across Dorian’s lips, prompting a growl somehow more approval than frustration as Dorian tries to kiss him again. He smirks, drawing away from his lover’s reach. He moves to straddle Dorian’s legs, pressing an insistent hand on the man’s collarbone as he guides him onto his back.

His hands fist through Dorian’s dark hair as he presses a line of soft, open-mouthed kisses to his chest, tracing the underside of his collarbones. His tongue lingers on the cluster of freckles scattered across Dorian’s shoulder like constellations, memorizing the placement of each and the spaces between them. Gently he moves down Dorian’s chest, trailing his tongue across finely tanned skin then grazing at it with the tips of his teeth; tasting his flesh, the warm, intoxicating salt of him and always the faintest suggestion of something bittersweet beneath the surface.

“You…” he whispers before he teases a dusky nipple between his lips, the other between calloused fingertips. “Are so fucking gorgeous.” He circles the delicate golden ring with his tongue, twisting it, teasing and pulling at the metal as Dorian’s breath grows shallow, shaky. Just as it seems the man might remaster himself he takes the ring delicately between his teeth and tugs ever-so-slightly, just enough to summon a stream of muffled curses from Dorian.

Cullen looks up at him; flushed and panting with pleasure, white-knuckled from clenching tightly at the pillows. Dorian’s trembling beneath him, a sheen of sweat glistening across his chest.

“Is it good, my heart?” His voice is dark and soft, edged with concern and Dorian nods but remains silent, not trusting himself to speak.

Cullen moves down his body, savoring every inch. His fingertips dig into the swell of Dorian’s hipbones, hooking into them as his mouth works at his flesh. Kissing and sucking, he bites at the hollow of his hipbone before moving further down. He pauses a moment to admire the delicate jewelry then leans down to brush his lips against the gold bars lining the underside of Dorian’s cock. A strangled sob tears from Dorian’s throat and then there are hands tangled in his hair, pushing him down.

He gives a long lick up Dorian’s shaft, his tongue lingering over each bar perhaps a second longer than necessary before he laps up the bead of precum leaking from the head. Dorian whimpers as he bucks his hips.

“Amatus, _please_.”

Cullen raises an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose you did ask rather nicely.” And with that he takes him into his mouth, circling then flicking at the tip with a well-practiced tongue. He teases at him, tightening his lips around him and taking a few long, slow strokes up his shaft, tongue trailing over each gold bar.

Then he pulls away and the noise that Dorian makes is absolutely delicious, a low whine that he would definitely deny if asked in more lucid moments that cuts off in a gasp as Cullen works at the onyx beads at the end of each bar with his mouth. Cullen twists at them with his lips and every turn sends waves of pain chased with pleasure through Dorian, his body bucking with every rotation. He can’t stop the noises he’s making; panting and cursing, whining and _oh Maker, please more, fuck, Cullen don’t stop_. Cullen chuckles and damn him the vibration of his laugh against the metal rockets through him, bringing him much too close to release.

“Fuck, Cullen… I’m not going to last,” he warns as the man takes him back into his mouth, quickening the pace of each stroke. He takes Dorian deeper now with each hard long stroke until his head hits the back of the man’s throat. Dorian forces himself not to thrust even further into his mouth but oh Maker how he wants to, want to fill up that pretty mouth until he almost chokes. He twists the blond’s hair tighter through his hands until Cullen lets out a grunt, half pain but still half pleasure; only then does he remember how to release his fingers.

The only warning he can manage is the way the short, strangled gasps he’s making turn to thick, deep moans that tear from him and he spills over with a strangled _oh fuck_. Cullen drinks him deeply, swallowing every drop of him before leaning over to press a kiss to his lips, one that tastes of bitterness and salt and him.

“Worth the wait?” Cullen asks as he curls in behind Dorian, pulling a blanket over the both of them.

Dorian hums softly and lets out a sleepy sigh. “I suppose,” he admits with a yawn. “That patience can occasionally be a virtue. Especially where you and your Maker-blessed tongue are concerned.”

Cullen smiles as he presses a kiss into the man’s hair.

“I love you, my heart,” he whispers against the soft skin of the back of Dorian’s neck, hot breath teasing out a shiver.

He’s nearly drifted off to sleep when he hears a mumbled “I love you too, Amatus.”


End file.
